


Potion of Desires

by do_i_know_you



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Established Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Good Morgana (Merlin), Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Romance, Secret Relationship, Sorry Not Sorry, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), i never get tired of the love potion trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:29:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25728208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_i_know_you/pseuds/do_i_know_you
Summary: Prince Arthur once again falls under the influence of a love potion - one created by a Lady of Court that Uther has decieded his son has to marry. It is up to Merlin to try and stop her, to break the spell that holds his lover's heart captive.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Potion of Desires

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!  
> I don't own any characters from BBC Merlin, only the ones I made up for the sake of the story.

Arthur lazily stretched out his arm, searching for the warm body which he expected he’d find lying next to him. Instead his fingers were met with the soft feel of still-warm silk sheets, making the Prince frown and open his eyes. He lifted his sleep-heavy head from the pillow to look around the room. The curtains were still drawn, only a few strands of light making their way through the thick fabric, illuminating Arthur’s (and Merlin’s, really) chambers in a soft glow. There was no sign of his manservant-and-lover anywhere in the room, so Arthur deducted he went to fetch breakfast.

There was nothing he liked more than waking up with Merlin in his arms, his hair a dark mess falling on his face, soft and innocent with sleep. It didn’t happen often, as Merlin usually woke before him and left to start his daily duties, no matter how many times Arthur told him it can wait until later. The Prince even insisted on getting a new servant - he didn’t feel comfortable treating Merlin as anything less than his equal. Merlin was quick to point out that they shouldn’t draw too much attention to themselves and their changed dynamic.

It’s not as if nobody suspected the true nature of their relationship and how deeply they felt for each other. It was the most popular theme of servant gossip and caught the ear of most knights as well. Arthur suspected that his father has yet to hear about it as he didn’t express any desire to banish Merlin. Or worse.

Not that Arthur would ever let him hurt Merlin in any way, shape or form.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy doors opening, the worn-out hinges letting out a squeak of protest as they were pushed apart. Merlin stepped in, arms full of delicious breakfast foods, and closed the door behind him.

Upon seeing Arthur was awake, he gave him one of his brilliant smiles - one of those that never failed to make Arthur’s insides flutter with love for the raven-haired boy.

“Ah, I see you’re already awake, _sire._ A bit early for you, isn’t it? _”_ The emphasis on the title was clear and teasing, as it always was.

Arthur was still too sleepy and cranky to crack a smile, no matter how adorable his lover was being. “I suppose I don’t like sleeping alone in an empty bed.”

Merlin chuckled at that, setting the trays down on the table.

“Why did you have to _go_?” Arthur whined, not minding that he sounded like an infant whose mother refused him a toy. That made Merlin laugh even more, the beautiful sound leaving the prince no choice but to smile with him.

“I thought you might like some breakfast.”

“I like having you in bed with me more.”

Another beautiful laugh escaped the sorcerer’s lips as he made his way to the bed, sitting on the edge – too far away for Arthur’s liking. It didn’t escape his notice, though, as Merlin’s eyes lingered on his bare chest just a little too long.

“Well, you have to get up, love. Your father requested to see you.”

“I’m sure it can wait. It probably has to do with the visiting King Randall and his niece. No doubt another ploy to get me to settle and marry.”

He was met with silence as Merlin’s gaze dropped to the sheets he was grasping lightly in his hands.

“I heard lady Allura is beyond beautiful. The fairest, is what they say. People praise her smarts and wittiness as well. No other could be more perfect for a King’s wife.” His tone was light, but Arthur knew well enough to catch the anxiousness behind the words.

Reaching out with his hand until it lay on Merlin’s cheek, Arthur gently tipped his head so that their eyes met. “Too bad my heart is already spoken for, then.”

“It’s not like you can tell her that. Or your father. He’d have my head for that. We both know you’ll have to marry eventually. To a woman with a big title, one that can produce an heir.”

“I don’t want any of that, Merlin. I only want you, you idiot. And once I’m King there’s nothing stopping me from making you my husband, my consort, my equal. That I promise you.”

A somewhat hesitant smile returned to Merlin’s lips.

“Now stop dwelling on that and come here. You’re ruining a perfectly good morning that we could be spending in a way more enjoyable way.”

Their lips met, then, soft but urgent, both eager to express their love as small sounds of pleasure filled the room.

… … … _ … … …

“You’re late. I thought I asked for your presence _immediately_ ,” Uther’s voice boomed through the throne room. He was sitting on his throne, Arthur standing before him, admittedly quite later than requested.

“I’m sorry, father. There was an urgent matter I had to deal with,” Arthur replied, hoping he sounded at least a tad convincing. If Merlin was standing next to him, he would surely give him a suggesting look – though that probably wouldn’t help his situation. It’s a good thing Merlin was standing quite some distance behind him, next to Gaius.

“I’m sure you did. I suppose it had something to do with that useless manservant of yours?” For a moment Arthur’s heart stopped. Surely, he couldn’t possibly know. Could he? His worries were somewhat eased when Uther spoke further: “He probably forgot to wake you, perhaps screwed something else up.” The King was sending a pointed look Merlin’s way, and though Arthur couldn’t see him, he knew he must be squirming under the gaze. He knew first-hand what that look does.

The Prince didn’t dare speak - being absolutely terrible at lying, he was worried he’d accidently say something he’d regret. His mind scrambled for words, something to say to defend Merlin, but he didn’t find any. He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Doesn’t matter. We have more important things to discuss now,” Uther said with a dismissing wave of his hand. He stood from his seat, stepping down the podium and making his way to his son. “As you know, King Randall is visiting. He and his niece, the Lady Allura, will be arriving this noon. They’re very important guests, Arthur. Very important. We’re hoping to form an alliance, you see.” He rested his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, making sure his son could see how important his next words would be. Arthur’s stomach turned, knowing what the conversation was suggesting. “You’re to show the Lady Allura around Camelot, take her riding, maybe take her on a picnic. Make sure her stay here is perfect.”

Arthur swallowed thickly. “Of course, father.”

“She is an extraordinary lady, Arthur. Beautiful beyond belief, wealthy and of an important family. She’d make a great Queen for you.”

“Are you suggesting marriage?”

Arthur knew he was. He knew that before he stepped foot into the room.

“It would help strengthen our alliance. Nothing but good would come from it, can’t you see?”

“But I don’t love her. I never could.”

“You haven’t even met her.”

“That’s exactly my point, sire.”

Uther seemed shocked at his son’s disobedience, but recovered quickly, his voice becoming stern, “When she comes, you will show her around, show her a good time and perhaps you will grow feelings for her. Regardless, you will court her and, when the time comes, you will propose, making alliance with King Randall’s kingdom. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Arthur turned his head to glance at Merlin. His eyes were concentrated on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, fingers fidgeting in front of him.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t marry her.

“I -- Father, I want to marry for love.”

Uther looked at him then, suspicion in his eyes as they flicked between Arthur and Merlin.

“Son, love isn’t what the people of Camelot need, what _the kingdom_ needs. What it needs is a strong King, a strong Queen by his side. It needs alliances. It needs an _heir_. Marriage has nothing to do with love. It’s about time you learned that.”

“The people need a kind, happy King, not a miserable one. Surely a King ruling with love is a better one.”

“What could you possibly know about love?”

 _Everything_ , Arthur wanted to say.

“My decision if final.” Uther’s tone left no room for argument.

“But--”

“You are dismissed.”

“Father--”

“You are _dismissed.”_

Arthur bowed, tight-lipped. “Yes, my Lord.” When he left the room, Merlin was hot on his heels.

… … … _ … … …

“So… That went… well?” Merlin said, his voice as unconvincing as it gets.

After walking out of the throne room (and Arthur shutting the door just a little bit too hard), they were now back in the Prince’s chambers. Arthur was sitting at his table, papers scattered everywhere as he put his head into his hands, letting out a sigh.

“Really? Didn’t seem like that to me,” he grunted, barely coherent through his hands. His next words were clear: “I don’t want to marry her, Merlin.”

Taking a step towards his lover, the sorcerer put a comforting hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing. Arthur looked up at him then, sorrow easily evident in his blue eyes. Merlin tried giving him his best reassuring smile. “I know.”

Arthur ran his hand up Merlin’s arm, finally resting it on his cheek. With the other he pushed his chair backwards a little, then placed it on Merlin’s hip, gently urging him to sit in his lap. He went willingly, of course he did, manoeuvring so that his legs were on either side of Arthur’s body; then leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. It was sweet, yet desperate – desperate to savour the moment, to cling to the love they shared. Their love, that the world seemed determined to destroy.

Leaning their foreheads together, Arthur took a big breath, his voice coming out decisive as he spoke: “I won’t do it. I don’t care what he says. He can’t make me.”

“Well, he’ll certainly try.”

“Let him. I’m done doing everything he says.”

“He _is_ still the King, you know. And your father.”

“Careful, it almost sounds as if you want this, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur said, no sharpness behind his words. The corner of his lips tugged upwards, his gloomy mood softening as he looked at his lover.

“Of course not, Arthur. I just don’t want you to do something stupid that will get us both in trouble. Do as he says – show the Lady Elise around, spend time with her as he pleases. We’ll figure out what to do about the engagement, alright?”

“Yes, sire,” Arthur teased, then in one quick motion tugged Merlin towards him to pepper his neck with kisses. Their laughter filled the air, making the world around them fade to nothing. They only knew each other, their voices, their touch, nothing else seemed to matter then.

A knock sounded at the door.

“My Lord, the King has sent for you. The guests will be arriving at any moment.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, making Merlin chuckle. “I’ll be right there.”

… … … _ … … …

The sound of approaching hooves hitting the pavement could be heard as a carriage came into view. Merlin was standing on the stairs, a few steps behind Uther, Arthur and Morgana. Next to him was Gwen, an easy smile on her face. It made Merlin feel better, even if only a little.

More than anything, he wanted to reach out and take Arthur’s hands in his, to kiss him for everyone to see. But he couldn’t. Maybe he never will.

The carriage, ornated with gold and towed by two white horses, finally came to a stop before the Pandragons, an entourage of saddled horses not far behind. One of the riders was quick to open the heavy-bedazzled door and a big man stepped out, tall and broad, almost twice Uther’s size he seemed. His hair was bright red, matching his long, thick beard and when the sun caught in his crown, big and shiny, it was almost blinding.

“Uther! How good it is to see you again, old friend,” his voice boomed, loud as if they were in small room. It was thick with an accent unfamiliar to Merlin. The Kings hugged, patting each other firmly on the back. Uther seemed so small there, compared to King Randall.

“Randall, always good to have you back.” Somehow his voice sounded smaller too. “You’ve already met my son, Arthur,” Uther said as he motioned to the Prince, who shook the King’s hand.

He bowed his head slightly as he said: “King Randall, we’ve been looking forward to your visit.”

“Oh, how much you’ve grown, boy. Last I saw you, you were barely to my waist.”

His voice carried long distance, even when he was speaking at normal volumes. Up this close, Merlin could see his face better - there was a long scar running along his left cheek, many decades old. His eyes were big and dark and warm; they somehow made him look kind, despite his daunting size.

“I have someone you might like to meet,” the King announced, stepping back towards the coach, “my lovely niece, Lady Allura.”

That’s when she stepped out, taking her uncle’s hand as she stood next to him. She was tall also, her red hair coming down to her waist in tight curls. The wind caught them, as if trying to enhance her beauty, sweeping them across her shoulders, making them dance along her freckled face. The Lady Allura was much paler than the King, somehow seeming even more so in her dress of dark green silk and her lips the colour of a rose.

There was a pang of hurt in Merlin’s heart when he saw her. She was truly beautiful, so much so, that she made even Morgana pale in comparison.

She made her way to Uther, standing before him, then bowing, “Thank you for having us, my Lord.” Even her voice was lovely, like a hummingbird in spring. Her words held an accent, but it flowed lighter from her mouth, almost sounding enchanting.

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady. I trust you had a pleasant trip.”

It was King Randall that answered: “We did. Though, it was long and tiring.”

“Of course, well, our servants will show you to your room, where you can get some rest,” Uther answered him, his next words spoken to Allura: “My son can show you where your chambers will be.” And with that, he turned towards the castle and walked away, and so did Randall, some servants carrying his heavy trunks.

Only Arthur, Merlin, lady Allura and Gwen remained, along with a few members of King Randall’s entourage who were now taking care of the horses and carriage.

“Lovely to meet you, my lady,” Arthur said, bringing to kiss the back of her hand.

“Oh, please, you can call me Allura,” she answered, her smile bright. “And you must be prince Arthur.”

“Please, just Arthur is fine.”

She seemed pleased with the answer.

Arthur cleared his throat. “This is my manservant, Merlin.” Merlin took that as the cue to step closer, standing next to Arthur and bowing his head. She barely acknowledged him. “He’ll take your luggage to your rooms. Gwen here will be seeing to your every need during your stay. Hopefully it will be pleasant.”

“I have a feeling it will be _most_ pleasant,” she said, her lips tugging in a smile. Her long lashes fluttered, her eyes, green like a forest after rain, sparkled in the sunlight. At that, Merlin’s stomach turned – she has clearly taken a liking to Arthur, _his_ Arthur.

Suddenly, letting him spend time with her didn’t seem like such a good idea. Suddenly, her _being_ here didn’t seem like such a good idea.

Arthur gave her a tight-lipped smile, obviously forced, though she didn’t seem to notice.

 _It’s alright_ , Merlin thought. He _trusted_ Arthur. He knew better than to think he’d ever want to leave him.

But, as they walked along the corridors, Merlin couldn’t help but think that maybe it would be better for him if he did. That maybe she was better fit for Arthur than him.

… … … _ … … …

That evening, Uther prepared a grand feast in honour of the royal guests. Merlin hated those with a burning passion; the only thing he could do the whole evening was stand there and pour ale into empty cups, watching as the guests slowly became less and less coherent. They always lasted late into the night, sometimes ‘till morning hours.

This one was even worse. Lady Allura was the big talk of the evening, beautiful in her rich purple gown with golden flowers in her long hair. Watching her run her hands up Arthur’s arm as she talked, leaning in constantly to whisper in his ear made Merlin’s skin itch, his magic trying to slip through, to let loose.

But deep down he knew he was just being ridiculous, that there was absolutely nothing to worry about; Arthur didn’t like her like that, he told him clearly, even complained about having to spend the whole day with her tomorrow. Merlin didn’t want to be jealous, especially because he had no reason to be. He just couldn’t help the pang of hurt every time she batted her ridiculously long eyelashes Arthur’s way.

The evening went as boringly as always, all politics talk and uninteresting conversations, a few drunk mishaps here and there, then back to the same old boring routine. The only redeeming thing for Merlin was Arthur constantly glancing at him, grinning and sometimes even winking, calling him to the table for ridiculous reasons just to have an excuse to talk to him, annoying lady Allura in the process. If Merlin wasn’t so absolutely in love with the royal idiot, he might have been worried about how obvious they were being. Morgana clearly caught up, as she more than once pointed out Arthur’s undivided attention in his manservant, a teasing smile on her face. Supposedly, so did Allura, as she did not seem pleased at all, a stony look on her pale face. Merlin couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her.

Luckily the feast didn’t last as long as Merlin feared it might, King Randall residing to his room quite early, saying the long journey left him exhausted, still. After the guest of honour, people started leaving soon enough, thus leaving Arthur and Merlin free to go to the Prince’s chambers. Merlin was sure that was the happiest moment of his whole day.

Feeling completely spent and drowsy from the long day, the raven-haired boy was quick to sprawl himself on the bed, limbs outstretched into every direction, a tired groan leaving his lips.

“Feeling a bit tired, Merls?”

“Just a bit, maybe.”

Arthur laughed as he removed his tunic, then sat next to his lover’s exhausted form lying spread throughout the whole bed.

“Well, you can’t sleep yet. We have to get you out of this first,” Arthur said, tugging on Merlin’s well-worn jacket.

“Can’t. Too tired to move.”

“Don’t be a lazy arse, Merlin,” the Prince proclaimed, pulling harder at the jacket to try to get it off. Merlin sighed dramatically, then murmured something under his breath. His eyes flashed golden and next Arthur knew, they were both in their sleeping clothes, a smell of herbs and flowers lingering on their bodies, suddenly clean as they were after taking a bath.

“I suppose that does make things quicker.”

“Can I go to sleep now?”

“I can’t see why not.”

“Well, then come here, dollophead.”

Arthur laughed, blowing out the candles, before returning to bed, “If you want me to come to bed, you’re going to have to move over a bit, you oaf.”

“Would it kill you to say ‘please’ sometimes?” Merlin groaned, but moved anyway, making space for Arthur to lie down next to him.

“Don’t know. Haven’t really tried it yet.”

Pulling Merlin to his chest, Arthur released a satisfied sigh, his muscles finally relaxing after an eventful day, relishing in the feel of Merlin in his arms. The room went quiet, except for their soft breathing and some time passed like that, enough for their eyes to have adjusted to the pitch darkness.

“So, lady Allura seems… kindly,” Merlin split the silence, arousing Arthur from his half-sleep.

“Hm. Didn’t really pay too much attention.”

“I noticed. And so did other people, I presume.” His voice wasn’t as accusing as he would like it to be.

“I’m afraid it proved too hard not to look at you. Your fault, really.”

“Do you think Uther suspects anything?”

Arthur cupped his chin, tilting it up so that their eyes met. Running his thumb gently along Merlin’s check, he spoke: “No. I think my father sees only what he wants to see, believes only what he wants to believe.”

“I hope you are right.”

With that, the room quieted once again, as Arthur planted a kiss on Merlin’s forehead, both finally descending into a peaceful slumber.

… … … _ … … …

Allura was pacing along her bedchamber, her face contoured in irritation, hair bouncing behind her as she made her way across the room then back again, over and over again.

 _How dare he make a fool of me! The Prince will pay dearly, and so will that bothersome servant of his,_ she thought, making her way to the table in the far end corner of her room. She sat down, smiling at the artefacts scattered before her, taking a hold of the vial that was just done brewing, the liquid inside thick and red, almost blood-like. A sweet aroma filled the room, one of delicious strawberry pastries, as Allura opened the cap. Reaching for the little wooden box sat on her right of the table, she opened it, revealing inside a few strands of dirty-blonde hair. With a foul smile gracing her lips, she carefully placed the strands in the vial, ancient words spilling out of her mouth in whispered tones. Around her all candles were suddenly brought to life, their flames reaching high, higher than possible, almost grazing the ceiling.

“Mark my words, Arthur Pandragon, you will be mine and I will be Queen of Camelot. That I promise.”


End file.
